The Things That Are Beautiful
by MochaCocaFan
Summary: So what if you can see the darkest side of me?/ No one will ever change this animal I have become...--Tayuya hates so many things, and so deeply. But there are the things that are beautiful...--


Tayuya is crazy.

She knows this well and good because nobody ever got to where she is now, on par with the sadistic, two-faced medic named Kabuto without lacking a lot in the sanity department. But nobody except her is this crazy. Nobody has such little sanity left that they think hunger and skinniness and illness and silence and corpses and death and dying and cold and demons and curse marks and blood and night is beautiful.

Night is especially beautiful. Night is cold and dark and silent, just the way she likes it, and being in the sunlight is so awful for her because she can't stand the light because it hurts her eyes and makes her want to scream and cry- which she hates too, with a fiery passion she also hates- and rip out her eyes so she doesn't have to see the light, the scarring light that makes her head ache and the nerves behind her eye twitch and stab and it blinds her, but not in the way she wants it to and why won't it just go on and make her eyes get properly scorched so she can't see and hurt?

Night is also beautiful because it's all nice and silent, because everybody's asleep, staring silently at nothing at all, or sometimes just the wondrous darkness that is just so lovely and soothing, like her, or dead. Loud noises are so bad, they are evil and sick and twisted because they are just that much louder than the silence she wishes for and craves so desperately she never sits still in a chair because she just wants time to hurry up and get the day over with so it will be night again and silent, she wants it that much. Her head aches when she listens to loud noises and she avoids noisy people like the plague, no actually more than she avoids plagues because illness is beautiful, oh so beautiful, just like hunger and skinniness and silence and corpses and death and dying and cold and demons and curse marks and blood and night, because noisy people give her headaches, and they talk and talk and whine and whimper or worse, they yell and scream and shriek and laugh and giggle and giggle and goddamn giggle (which she does when she's in a rage but she will never admit it), until she thinks that her ears are going to bleed because they hurt just that much and make her deaf so she can't hear them and hurt anymore, but oh no they never do, they never deafen her properly so she can't hear anymore and why won't anybody just let her rip out her ears and stab at her eardrum so she can't hurt anymore?

She would like music if she ever payed attention to the noise she hates so much, but she loves to hate it, but she hates love itself with a fiery passion, which she also hates because they make you weak and weakness is the most awful thing of all, much much much worse than satisfaction and fat, everything about such ugly awful terrible evil fat, health and good health and worse, good healthy people, oh they just make her want to scream, which she hates too, and every noise possible, anything louder than the silence she craves more than a drug addict craves their high, and living things and living and life itself and angels and normal people and day and all the other awful terrible things that make her head hurt and her heart feel so hot and angry and make scorching tears spurt terribly down her cheek, oh so awfully weak, and weak is bad, no it's worse than bad, worse than evil, it's just the worst compared to everything else and she hates weakness and that's why she's so phenomenally determined to get rid of weakness and not to be weak, to never ever ever be weak because weak is bad, no it's worse than bad, worse than evil, the worst compared to everything, the worst possible and worst impossible too, but how she figured that out is a mystery, and she hates mysteries because she can't figure them out, at least not mysteries like this, she's not stupid you know because stupid is weak and weak is the worst, period.

She hates mysteries that she can't figure out because she doesn't know what they mean- which is weakness- or coax any meaning from them, not that she's good at coaxing like some noisy people, and because they refuse to make sense and make her head hurt like day and noise and everything else she hates with a fiery passion, which she hates too because it makes her do stupid things and feel all hot and angry and she gets a lump in her throat and just ugh, it's so bad when she gets mad because it always ends up in a murderous vengeful rampage, she doesn't like her rages because she always has a migraine afterwards, the days of hurt and nausea and throwing up which is so repulsive it's not even funny and the weakness of it all just sickens her, which she hates too. But her mind won't stop thinking on mysteries until she figures them out or simply discards them, which takes years which is slow and she hates slow, and being slow is worse because it's all weakness all over again and it makes her so mad she goes into a a rage and has a migraine and then it won't stop no matter how hard she tries so she stops trying which is weakness! Again! And it just won't stop, like a carousel, another thing she hates because it's so noisy and bright and full of noisy and bright children, worse than any other noisy people because she can't kill them or rip out their guts or just choke them until they faint because somewhere in her empty chest cavity there's still a heart (not to mention Orochimaru-sama forbade her from doing so) there you go, weakness again, and they don't know any better, weakness once more.

And she hates Konoha, because if children are the dictators of noise and bright light and life and health and fat- shudders!- then Konoha is practically an orgy for weak fat little noisy people that are somehow healthy and alive and just never seem to bleed- that's why she likes killing so much, so they end up dead, silent, cold and covered in blood, all the things that are beautiful although they never really end up skinnier. Konoha people combine all the things she hates and somehow don't see how weak and evil and awful and mind-shatteringly confusing they are, weak! And weak is somehow the essence of their being and weak is bad, worse than evil, the worst compared to everything, the worst possible and worst impossible too, weak is the worst, period. So they are just so stupid and ignorant and bloodless and healthy and fat and noisy and bright and alive and so goddamn weak that she wants to kill them so badly her heart aches to kill them all and she sometimes tears at her chest just to get the ache out because it's so much like the headaches she hates so. She doesn't always get a chance because it doesn't always work that way but it will soon- it better because she hates slow because it's weakness- she's getting higher, climbing the ladder of strength and rank and craziness, and where she is if you're not crazy you can't be a proper nin, just a puny pathetic weak little sacrifice to be slaughtered later, preferably by Tayuya in the bloodiest way possible, and she can kill more Konoha nins now- thank whoever made this possible (really it was just her)- and so she will be soon killed by a bounty hunter and finally reach the ultimate beauty which she craves even more- if it's possible- than being strong, being dead.


End file.
